gmathis

Second steep. Cherry dissipates pretty quickly, but it still leaves the nice pu-erh base. Not too muddy tasting.

And of course, it tastes better because…
a) it’s warm enough to taste it outside while watching laundry on the line fluttering gently in the sunshine
b) it’s sipped in the company of Tazo, our free-range, no-strings-attached, no-obligation yard cat. (Solid black. Citrus green eyes. Tazo just fit. No special emotional attachments to the brand.)
c) it’s accompanied by fresh brownies and a fistful of malted milk eggs.

Amazing what happens when you read the directions. Two teaspoons. I had been way underleafing. Done properly (well, I never know if I’m doing pu-erh properly…) it tastes like a good slab of cherry pie.

Based on the NTL varieties I have tried, the one thing I’ve observed they consistently do well is create real-tasting fruit flavors. Not a bit of artificiality about this one.

With honey. It certainly sweetens, but doesn’t mask the dark-green-leafiness.

This came to me via a co-worker to whom it was served at a hotel in the United Arab Emirates. Looked up the company; it’s Singaporean and has a very tony, elegant website. Opened the pouch; beautiful fabric bag. Tasted the tea; flat.

It’s a basic, “brown” tasting breakfast tea, getting a little bitter as it cools. Kind of a disappointment, as I had anticipated something posh.

Ah, well. It’s still always fun to add a new one to the tasting list.

Had an after-dinner cuppa with a squirt of experimental honey. It worked. The honey toned down the barkiness and made it taste more like the rough-shod cousin of a cup of chamomile. I’ll let you know if it makes me healthier. :)

This is going to be an acquired taste, I think; drinking for the health benefits more than anything else. A deep forest-y taste; something an Ent or a wood elf might offer you to drink. Just now reading indigobloom’s comment from a previous note that it works with honey. Will try that next steep.

I’m finding something else to like about this time every time I drink it. Today’s “fave feature” is its flexibility…I was bumbling through the morning routine much slower than usual and a three-minute steep time stretched well over five. Still tasty and bright, not bitter. It isn’t bulldozer-strong, but an all-around good a.m. selection.

I know I like this lean, clean dragonwell, but just now noticing that it’s being advertised as a digestive aid. After a large sweet-n-sour pork lunch with all the trimmings at a local Asian buffet, it is a comfortable topper…

Snow. Again. It would be beautiful if it were December; now, it’s just an annoyance.

And I do have to go out in it soon, so something with clout is needed. Love this stuff. A little milk helps it stick to your ribs.

What wretched weather! Upper 30’s, sky like a wet gray blanket, threats of snow tomorrow, haven’t seen the sun since last Tuesday.

A copious tea day, but trying to lighten it up a bit this afternoon so I can sleep.

This is deliciously light, silky, and a little bit fruit-juicy. Is aging well; doesn’t seem to have lost any of its elegant punch after all the months I’ve had it.

Just needed a cup of simplicity. Dark, strong, breakfast tea, no fuss. Light touch/short steep is good with these bags. But if you see this brand in the odds-n-ends shelf at a department discount store and wonder about it, it’s OK.

Hubby brought home a couple of vanilla beans for us to play with. I snipped off a few slivers into a second steep of this.

Even at Steep 2, the honeysuckle is so strong, I’m not sure I was getting any of the vanilla. I think can steep this same batch of leaves well into tomorrow without putting a dent in the strength.

P.S. Have any of you seen the lid to my Finum brew basket that mysteriously disappeared from my kitchen counter? It’s green.

I made a cuppa last night with a big wad of leaves (yep, it calls for a whole tablespoon) and let it go as far as I dared—two whole minutes. Added a generous squoze of honey, and it tasted/smelled so authentic, I felt just like a bumblebee.

(Been watching old SNL Season 1 shows…loved the bees.)

I haven’t sampled that many, but so far I haven’t met a Fujian tea I didn’t love (Adagio’s Fujian Baroque is tasty, too). Pleasant fruit and cocoa notes; isn’t picky on the steep time; just plain good no matter how you make it.

White cake with key lime frosting only makes this betterer. (Not a typo. It’s worthy of the extra er.) Sweet, authentic-tasting fruit flavor against the green tea. Sooooo good.

This is one of the prettiest loose black teas I think I’ve ever seen. All the goodies look like confetti. And the scent…mmmmmm!

It steeps into a coppery-colored cup of sweet citrus flavor. Lots and lots of orange; yep, there’s the lemongrass; the eucalyptus in this particular cup is faint, if existent. But I’ll blame that on small-sample ingredient inequity.

Anyway, this is fresh, tasty, citrusy, and a little celebratory, and I’m grateful to Steep City for the taste!

For a lark, threw some black peppercorns in with some aging Belgian Chocolate rooibos (Metropolitan, I think). Couldn’t taste the peppercorns separately, but I think they added a little depth of flavor and warmth, rather than heat, that brought this oldie but goodie back to life.

Sweet. Gentle. Flavor-accurate. You need to have this. You need to have this with cookies.

Top o’ the mornin’ to you. (yawn) We had hail in the wee hours and it sounded like a million leprechauns were clogging on my roof.

This was the first Assam I could lay my bleary eyes on, and I’m glad I did. Loving its texture—not too heavy, not too thin. Loving its flavor, which is still prompting me to use adjectives like bright and fruity (which I usually associate with Ceylon teas). Looking forward to a second steep this afternoon.

Giving this an opportunity to prove its calming and anxiety busting properties. Flavor is growing on me. Sort of like a sharper and sterner version of chamomile.

I am a hairball of anxiety this evening. Cancer found in my mom’s routine x-ray; moving into lungs and liver. Looks like an additional round of bureaucratic warfare is looming to prove that we paid to have our post-tornado ruins privately bulldozed and that we don’t owe the city for (not) doing it. Just when I think we can finally put all that behind us…

My mom (82) is facing the news wonderfully: “I know how it ends,” she says. My God has promised to provide for my needs and I believe that includes whatever it takes to slog through another tornado-related worry. Now if I could just get the Not Knowing Monster to remove his fangs from the back of my neck…

If this is as calm-producing as purported, I may have to buy it and tulsi by the bushel for the months ahead.

(P.S. Speaking of needs provided for in wacky and wonderful ways…a neighborhood stray cat, black with a few streetwise scuff marks, wandered into my yard for a cuddle earlier this week and has extended his hangout. Climbed into my lap and did that paw-paw thing that lowered my blood pressure 10 points. I haven’t broken down and bought a bag of Fancy Feast yet, but a friendship may be developing.)

Almost like candy for breakfast. Nothing new to say about it after half a dozen tasting notes; caramelly, lemony. Only for mornings when there’s time to enjoy it. Because of where I buy it, when I drink it, I have strong sensory connections of leisurely days in the days of the Ozarks. I am in deep need of a strong dose of “somewhere else.”

This is definitely an herbal blend for chai lovers—lots of the same ingredients, leading loudly with cardamom. I’m catching the orange and ginger, and the chamomile is visibly present in the dry blend, but it’s overpowered by the spices.

A really creative change of pace from typical nighttime chamomile blends. Thanks, Steep City, for the chance to try it!

First, thanks to Teajo Teas. I needed a little cheer-up after this week, and the little padded sample mailer made my day.

First whiff out of the open packet reminded me a little of fruity chewing gum. (Peer pressure, based on other reviews, said it should have smelled like malt and hay.)

Regardless, it steeps up into a red-brown, fruity (yay…somebody else said raisiny; I’m not crazy!) cuppa. A little gentler than my usual boot-yer-backside-out-the-door breakfast preference. And I’m thinking it will be refreshing if the sample holds out long enough for me to try a cup chilled!

Homebrew experiment. Took a wild chance with roughly equal parts lemongrass, coconut, and toasted sesame seeds…a hat-tip to H&S Bangkok Blend.

Plausible. I liked the sesame part of each sip best, which makes me wonder if there’s something else it would jive with a little better.